


Sweet Creature

by thegirlwthekittentattoo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Dom Liam Payne, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sub Zayn Malik, it's all the little things -verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwthekittentattoo/pseuds/thegirlwthekittentattoo
Summary: This is a missing scene from the fantastic SoManyDirection's "It's all the Little Things" fic which is capital - p Phenomenal and I woke up this morning thinking about it. After receiving their permission, this is the missing scene where Liam and Zayn recap after the fight in the lobby.Liam has figured out what Zayn needs before even Zayn has – what would that be called? Not a spidey-sense. A Dom-sense?An excuse to write sleepy, syrupy morning anxiety and some sexy times.





	Sweet Creature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoManyDirections](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyDirections/gifts).
  * Inspired by [It's all the Little Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256013) by [SoManyDirections](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyDirections/pseuds/SoManyDirections). 

> This would not have been possible without SoManyDirections -- literally. They wrote the fic "It's all the Little Things," and this fic is going to be impossible to understand without that context. So read that first, and then come back here and read this. If that fic brought you here, welcome.
> 
> SoManyDirections also beta read this for me, so any mistakes are my own. And talked me through stuff this morning, and yeah. IMPOSSIBLE without them, I tell you. Impossible.
> 
> Title is shamelessly stolen from Harry Styles' song of the same name. I'm not even going to apologize for that.

Liam acts like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and perhaps it is, perhaps for Liam it is. It wouldn’t shock him – wouldn’t shock Zayn, that when Liam got his results, his response was a perfectly prepared Emmy-esque speech and a promise to always uphold his duties as a dom. That is exactly what Liam would do, and probably did.

He indulges for a moment at the image of Liam, results and speech in one hand, perfectly tailored tux, his warm brown eyes sparkling, half of his face notched up in a smile.  _ I’d like to thank the academy, and all the doms who came before me…. _

Now he’s getting a bit indulgent.

Still, why shouldn’t he? He stretches and rolls over, making a face at the scrape of the sheets against his still-sore ass, still sleep-soft and warm next to Liam, who is also warm and sleep – well, not soft. Not that Liam  _ can’t _ be soft – Zayn saw the way he helped handle Harry’s drop – but the smudges of lashes against his cheeks, the steady rhythm of his breathing doesn’t say  _ sleep-soft _ to Zayn, not exactly, but he can’t put a finger on what it  _ does _ say. He squirms, uncomfortable, hating the quest for words, hating that, instead of indulging in what is absolutely a top-three activity for him – sleeping – he’s stuck with his thoughts that won’t  _ shut the fuck up _ , thinking about how he wants to describe Liam when he doesn’t want to use  _ sleep-soft _ . Christ.

Point is, why shouldn’t he get a bit indulgent when he’s  _ unable to sleep _ for what is, perhaps, the first time in his life, excepting of course the time they couldn’t find Harry. Abject terror does not equate to a time that counts against his near-perfect  _ sleep anywhere _ record.

He knows what it is. He also knows why he’s pretending to be mystified by the fact that he can’t sleep. Of course he can’t sleep. He’s still thinking about whatever happened in the lobby. After Harry yelled at him.

A curl of shame rolls down Zayn’s spine and he makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat, uncomfortable. He could wake Liam up. Liam would  _ want _ him to wake him up. If Zayn reached over right now and flicked Liam’s ear, or curled up close to his sleepy warmth, gave him some sweet little good morning kiss, or if Zayn ducked under the covers and –

Anyway, point is, if he woke Liam up in any of the ways that he’s listed and told him what was going on in his head, Liam would take care of it, and wouldn’t begrudge him the lost sleep. They would probably even cuddle and take a nice little nap after all the setting straight was over, and the thought of being able to sleep again is what has Zayn almost reaching over to curl his fingers around Liam’s elbow.

Liam’s such a good dom, he probably wouldn’t even have to say anything. He’s probably engineered a way to know how Zayn’s feeling just by the way his fingers feel on his skin. That wouldn’t surprise Zayn in the slightest, nor any of the other boys.

So why can’t he do it? It’s what he’s  _ supposed  _ to do, ask for help when he feels the buzz set in under his skin. That’s his part of this, isn’t it? To give the Dom a Sub? So why can’t he? What’s pinning him to the bed?

He huffs out a breath and rolls over to his other side. Thunder grumbles in the distance. Maybe the storm will wake Liam up, since he, apparently, has decided that he is unable to do so, for whatever reason.

Liam is (of course) beautiful in the muddled grey light coming in through the window. The sheets are rucked down around his waist, his face smushed a little into the pillow, one hand curled under his head, the other so close to Zayn, Zayn only need shift half a centimeter to the left and Liam’s hand would be on him. Zayn adds that to the  _ possible methods of waking Liam up _ list. Zayn wouldn’t even have to wake him up then – it would be more like he  _ accidentally _ rolled into Liam’s hand, and that woke him up. It wouldn’t be Zayn’s doing at all.

He considers it for a second and then mutters “stop being such a pussy” to himself and then reaches up to brush his fingers along the curve of Liam’s cheekbone.

It takes a moment, but Liam take a deep breath at Zayn’s touch and he blinks awake slowly, reaching, almost automatically, to take Zayn’s hand and press a kiss to the palm. “G’morning,” he mumbles, rolling over onto his back and stretching until his back pops. “Sleep alright?”

“—Liam.”

It’s all Zayn has to say for Liam to realize that, yes, Zayn did intend to wake him up, and no, he did not sleep alright.

“What’s the matter, then?” he asks, his brow furrowing in concern, reaching up to cup Zayn’s face gently, brushing a thumb under his eye. “Still tangled up about last night? Thought we fixed that.”

Zayn licks his lips and shifts a little, the tender skin of his arse against the hotel sheets reminding him that they  _ did _ fix it. He thought.

“More… just feeling— about what I said to Harry? Wasn’t – that – he’s struggling a bit, I should—”

“Stop.”

Liam’s voice is a crack across the gentle bubble of morning. Zayn falls silent, obediently.

“You don’t need to feel that way anymore.”

Zayn swallows, hard. He knows, and that makes the shame burn even stronger in his stomach, bilious and tight. Liam’s tone makes him bristle a little bit, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Liam’s hand, still cupping his face, curls around to the back of his neck, his fingers pressing into his pulse. There’s something gentle in his words when he says “Harry’s feelings are not your responsibility. It’s not  _ your _ fault Modest wants him to be a Dom. Not  _ your _ fault you got your results first.”

“I shouldn’t’ve snapped at him.”

“We already covered that last night,” Liam says, his voice softening, but still with a bit of steel behind it. Liam is a textbook Dom – knows just what to say and how to infuse his tone with the right amount of power.

“—I know. I just – don’t want to … ruin things with Harry.”

This is new. Talking about his feelings is new. But it was a rule – something Liam said he had to do, at least with him. He has to tell Liam how he’s feeling.

“I doubt you’ve ruined things with Harry,” Liam says dryly. “That’s a bit dramatic, for anyone. And it wasn’t as though you lashed out without provocation, though – as we discussed last night – we are still working on your temper.”

A hot flash of shame curls through Zayn at that and he meets Liam’s eyes very briefly before sighing and curling into his chest, getting all up into his space, pressing his face against his neck. Liam wraps both arms around him and presses a kiss to the top of his head, rubbing his back in long, slow strokes. The physical affection soothes him and he relaxes into Liam’s arms, content to be comforted for the moment.

He thinks carefully about what he wants to say next. He doesn’t know how to tell Liam this without hurting him – doesn’t know how to communicate that it’s  _ nice _ to have another sub around. Nice to have someone who knows exactly what it feels like to feel like he’s bubbling out of his skin, or like he’s drowning and his legs are too heavy to keep treading water. It’s just  _ nice _ to have someone who  _ gets _ it the way Harry does, even if Liam also gets it in his own special way. It’s not that he prefers Harry to Liam – not at all – rather that now that there’s another sub in their group, he can finally not feel like as much of an outsider. Perhaps that’s it.

Zayn rubs his cheek against Liam’s shoulder and Liam’s arms tighten around him. “You’ve not done anything that needs corrected this morning,” he says, his voice muffled into Zayn’s hair. “You’re  _ good _ , Zayn, you’re so good.” Zayn shivers at the words, and kisses at Liam’s neck, soft, sweet kisses. Liam keeps rubbing his back, one hand coming up to stroke through his hair.

He feels a bit more settled, then, and he pulls back just a little to find Liam’s lips, pressing a quick kiss to them.

“Just nice to have someone who… is the same. As me.” He pauses, curling back down into Liam’s warmth. “And I feel … course I want Harry to be able to talk about it like I can,” Zayn says slowly. “I want to help him, much as anyone else, but I’m not… capable of it.”

“Capable of what?” Liam asks. “Of being a dom? Of course you aren’t. That’s my job.”

Of course it feels that simple to Liam. Maybe it should feel that simple to Zayn, too.

He buries his face in Liam’s shoulder and Liam rubs his back. “Are you still feeling guilty?” he asks gently, and Zayn hesitates just a moment before nodding. Liam reaches down to squeeze Zayn’s ass under the sheets. He’s tender from last night and he makes a soft noise into Liam’s shoulder. “I thought we handled that.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything. He thought they handled it, too. Maybe there’s something broken in him, something too broken to ever be repaired by anything, and it’s just a matter of time before Liam –

There are soft lips against his temple. Once again, Zayn thinks Liam has some kind of special Dom sense.

“Stop,” he says softly. “Don’t do that to yourself. You don’t deserve that.”

He shifts then, tilting Zayn’s face up to his so he can kiss him, gently at first and then with a deeper purpose. He’s figured out what Zayn needs before even Zayn has – what would that be called? Not a spidey-sense. A Dom-sense?

But then Zayn can’t think about that anymore because Liam is kissing down away from his mouth, down to scrape his teeth against his pulse point, his movements perfectly orchestrated. He’s figured out what Zayn needs and, like a good dom, like the good dom he is, he’s going to comply. That’s Liam’s job. Zayn’s job is to relax into it, open and pliant, his body responding to Liam in the ways he’s supposed to.

“That’s right,” Liam says, his voice mirroring along Zayn’s movement, “that’s a very good lad, Zayn, just like that. Letting me take care of you, such a good boy.”

Zayn preens under the praise, his legs stretching out, his body opening up to Liam. This is how it was, how they made it work. Zayn’s always been so closed, restricted, but Liam opens him up, sees everything, and loves him because of, in spite of, and anyway.

The skin of his arse is still sore after the previous evening, but Liam’s lips are gentle, pressing soft kisses along the skin. At first, this was hard to get used to, letting Liam do as he pleased, but now it comes as naturally to him as breathing – all he has to do is let Liam lead. Liam will tell him what to do, because he’s  _ Liam’s _ , and Liam is his.

Liam lifts Zayn’s hips, one hand curled around each of Zayn’s hipbones, squeezing, before wrapping an arm around Zayn’s middle, pressing a kiss to the center of his spine as his free hand goes to wrap around Zayn’s cock, giving it a gentle squeeze before he starts to jerk him off, slow at first and then settling into a steady rhythm.

Zayn is generally quiet during sex. Liam, too, though Liam is more vocal than Zayn is – giving him directions, alternated with praise.

Liam nudges his hip, getting him to lay on his back, and Zayn obeys, looking up at Liam, Liam looking down at him, and Zayn wants to cry because it’s so perfect, and he doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t—

Liam cups his cheek and shakes his head, like he can tell where Zayn’s thoughts are going. “Focus on this,” he says softly. “Because this? This is what you deserve.”

He presses into Zayn slowly, filling him up, and Zayn makes a very soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, his fingers scrambling for purchase anywhere and Liam takes his free hand and catches the searching fingers in his own, bringing Zayn’s hand to his mouth and kissing his palm.

“S’okay,” he says softly, “you’re alright. We’re alright. Just the two of us, yeah?”

He lets Zayn’s hand drop and lifts his right leg, under the knee, starting to rock into him slowly.

Zayn makes another tiny, soft sound and lets his eyes slip closed, his mouth opening just a hair, his body responding to Liam almost automatically.

It doesn’t take long. They’re young men and Liam knows exactly what to do to get Zayn to come apart under him, and he does it, like he knows that Zayn needs to feel safe, needs to feel – protected. Loved.

He pulls out, pressing a kiss to his right knee, and then brushes a hand through Zayn’s hair. “Be right back, love. Just breathe.”

And it’s easy, easy to follow those directions, and easier still, when Liam returns with a warm washcloth, to let him clean him up; easiest of all to curl back up into his arms when he crawls back into the bed, easiest of all to curl in close and let sleep tug at him.

“My love for you is not contingent on anything,” Liam murmurs into his hair. Zayn feels floaty and soft and  _ nice _ . “You are exactly what I want, in all your ways,” he adds, and rubs his back, and Zayn settles back in for a nap, thunder rumbling in the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear any thoughts you care to spare on the way out!


End file.
